


truth more than knowledge

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki makes really bad choices, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Post-Canon, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), The Tesseract (Marvel), Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Spoilers, Withdrawal, massive issues, the addiction is to a magical object if you were wondering, this fic is not full of nice things, well more like Disordered Eating but that's a weird distinction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 00:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12923163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: When Loki sees the Tesseract sitting in the Vault, of course he's going to take it. He can't possibly do anything else.No, really. Hecan't.





	truth more than knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> An anon on Tumblr prompted me for this one, and I kind of ran away with it. Or it ran away with me. Either way - look, I'm here for whump and I'm going to give it my all. 
> 
> Some, uh, pretty intense content warnings for this one: there's a lot of in-depth stuff about addiction (to a magical artifact), mention of/thoughts of self-harm, self-inflicted insomnia and disordered eating. Just so everyone is aware. 
> 
> Many thanks to [my beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), the first one I emotionally traumatize with _all_ my fic.

Loki waited until the ship fell quiet, late in the night, to sit up in his bed and summon the Tesseract out of hiding. 

He hadn’t intended to take it. Hadn’t been thinking of it when he hurried into the vault carrying Surtur’s crown, too aware of time ticking away. And then he’d seen it out of the corner of his eye. Shining, swirling with light. Singing. 

His stride hitched. Only a moment, and he did what he’d come to do first, but…

He should have walked away. Should have let it be destroyed, or flung into the vacuum of space, somewhere far away, beyond his reach, beyond anyone’s reach. 

It glowed between his hands, the soft music of its power whispering to him, the energy of it humming through his fingers. Loki sat, cross-legged, just looking at it. 

_We might need it later,_ he had told himself as he took it from its roost. _It might be useful._

That wasn’t why he’d taken it, though.

Loki cradled the Tesseract between his hands and closed his eyes, breathing deep, drawing its power into himself and letting it wash through him, cleansing and pure, a flood that swept away everything and left him shuddering in something approaching ecstasy. 

_It touches everyone differently,_ he’d told Thor’s Dr. Selvig an age ago. 

This was how it touched him. 

Loki twisted his hands and sent it away. A faint twist of guilt wormed its way into his stomach. _Thor should know. You should tell him._

He should have told Thor already. If he went to him now...Loki could picture, precisely, the look of disappointment on his face. 

No. He didn’t have to know. Not yet. Give everything some time to settle. Then...then he’d find some way to explain to Thor. 

But not right now. For now...this secret was just his. 

* * *

Destroying Asgard did not solve everything. 

Destroying Asgard solved almost nothing. What it did, mostly, was leave them with a crowded ship full of a motley mix of Asgardian refugees and Sakaaran ex-gladiators. A poorly provisioned ship constructed on a planet almost literally made out of garbage. There were wounded but no medical supplies, children without parents, and a whole populace of battle-scarred and traumatized people.

It was just a _bit_ of a stressful situation. There was too much to do and too little to do it with, Thor was trying to be everywhere at once because he hadn’t worked out how to delegate, the Valkyrie seemed to have vanished back down an alcoholic hole, and the Hulk was an omnipresent menace who seemed to be there every time Loki turned around. The only one with any kind of sense was Heimdall. And him. Sort of. 

And the only thing keeping _him_ from losing his mind were the moments of peace the Tesseract gave him. The clarity, the quiet, the feeling of ancient, overwhelming power pulsing through him, filling his body and dragging everything away like sand under a wave. 

Like that, he could sleep, and drag himself out of bed more or less rested for another day of frantic triage. 

He, Thor, and Heimdall were going over possible routes to Midgard (and wasn’t _that_ a charming idea) when Thor stopped suddenly and frowned at him.

“Are you all right?” 

In point of fact, he had a bit of a headache, but Loki didn’t feel the need to share that. “Yes. Why?”

“You look a bit…” Thor gestured in his general direction. Loki raised his eyebrows, and Thor huffed. “Pale.”

“I’m always pale.”

“More so than usual.” Thor looked at Heimdall. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Now Heimdall was looking at him, too. Loki stared stubbornly back at him, refusing to be cowed. “Perhaps a little,” Heimdall said finally. Loki huffed and pushed back from the table. 

“Haven’t we more important things to discuss than the state of my skin? I was under the impression we were having a meeting.”

Thor’s eye narrowed like he knew Loki was hiding something, and for a panicked moment Loki thought somehow he’d figured out that Loki had the Tesseract and was about to come down on him like his dearly departed hammer. 

But Thor just shook his head. “If you say so,” he said, sounding profoundly unconvinced, and they returned to the question at hand. 

Loki checked his appearance afterwards. He did, perhaps, look a bit pale. 

Well. As he’d told Thor, he _had_ always been pale, and it wasn’t like there was a great deal of sun to go basking in. It was nothing wrong with him. The faint headache was more bothersome, but that wasn’t exactly new for him, either. Under the circumstances, it was surprising he wasn’t having them _more._

* * *

Loki had never really had to deal with the aftermath of devastation. 

He had never visited Jotunheim after trying to destroy it. Never had to look at Midgard after he attacked it. The damage from the Dark Elf attack had been relatively minimal, in the end, and most of it did not need overseeing directly - there were others the King could command to do such work. 

Every story he and Thor had ever been told ended with the battle won and the hero victorious. They did not mention the shock that lingered after, the weeping of widows, the smell of misery, the struggle to rebuild a sense of safety, of normalcy.

It was exhausting, demoralizing, and unsatisfying work. And unending: no sooner was one problem dealt with than another rose to replace it. It was wearing, and Loki could _feel_ it wearing, chewing away at him until he wanted to scream, until all the ugly sharp edges started cutting in his mind.

Sitting in his berth, bent over the Tesseract and breathing raggedly, Loki had to allow that he was, perhaps, not coping very well.

He pressed his hands on either side of the glowing cube and inhaled as steadily as he could manage. When he exhaled he let it in. 

The tension bled out of him. When he stretched his fingers they felt like someone else’s. He quivered like a note at its highest pitch, like a leaf clinging to the tree in the moment before its fall. For a moment there was nothing else.

Then he let it go. Any longer and he would risk scouring himself away into a mindless husk. Or being devoured, his body burned away.

He set the Tesseract down carefully and looked at it. Over a week and he still had said nothing to Thor, and the longer he went, he knew, the worse it would be. He needed to tell him that it was here. He needed to make sure Thor was aware of what it _meant._

If Thor knew it was here he would take it away. He would hide it where Loki would never see it, buried in some vault and kept from him, from _him,_ the only person on this ship who knew its truth and could understand-

Loki realized he was shuddering and forced himself to straighten and still. 

If he kept the Tesseract - he could go on studying it. Working with it. When he knew all its secrets, when he could show Thor its true worth (his true worth) - then he would tell him. 

“I will,” he said to the cube, in the silence that followed his decision, and then laughed at himself. Talking to a thing that could not answer. No wonder he was supposed to be mad. 

* * *

From Loki’s earliest memories, he and Thor had argued. Over a thousand things, a thousand tiny matters, the details of which were mostly long forgotten - but Loki _did_ know that it was almost traditional, when one of them was in a bad mood, to pick a fight with the other. 

When both of them were…

“Thor!” Heimdall said, the door banging open. “You’re going to tear this ship apart!” 

Thor flung an arm in Loki’s direction, lightning spidering over his bare skin. “He started it!” 

“Of course I did,” Loki hissed. “Something goes wrong, blame me, always a safe bet-”

“Usually accurate,” Thor growled. That stung more than Loki wanted it to. He let his lip curl. 

“A convenient answer to keep from having to look at your own failures.”

“I am not the one who-”

“That’s _enough,_ ” Heimdall said, the tone of his voice a bit like he was chiding children. “Now is not the time for bickering at all, and _certainly_ not when your powers react as they do to strong emotion.” Loki opened his mouth to say something snide about Thor’s lack of control and shut it when Heimdall looked at him. “ _You_ can leave.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. Loki could have argued that he didn’t need to take orders from Heimdall, but he’d only sound like a petulant child, and he was suddenly aware of the ice under his feet creaking dangerously. 

He could not assume that his place here was secure. He had to act as though he could lose it at any moment. _Be good, Loki, walk the line or you’ll be gone._

So he left in silence, seething, and avoided everyone until he reached his room. It was, unfortunately, impossible to slam the door. He did close it as hard as possible, and stood there breathing hard, hands opening and closing, something dark and deadly seething under his skin. He wanted to destroy something. _It’s easier to burn it all down._

He called the Tesseract from its hiding place and opened the floodgates. Finessed, it could be gentle. This time Loki let it burn - let it tear through him like a river carving out a canyon. He didn’t even try to control it, or hold it, or channel it.

When he finally let it go he was gasping and felt light-headed, though both passed quickly. His breathing steadied, and his mind had steadied as well, clarifying. He sent the Tesseract away again and flexed his fingers. 

He shouldn’t have picked a fight with Thor. It’d been - childish. Futile - counterproductive. He did not feel any better for it, and certainly Thor did not either. 

Old habits, he supposed, but he needed to be shaking _old habits._ There were too many and too many dangerous ones to hold onto. 

Maybe next time he’d even remember this and restrain himself. He liked to fancy that he was getting better, though no one else necessarily seemed to think so. 

_Don’t be bitter,_ he told himself bitterly. _You have a very, very long ways to go before you have any room to complain._

His hands itched for the Tesseract again, but this time he held it back. It wouldn’t do to grow too dependent on it. Eventually he would have to give it up. 

* * *

“Are you going to eat that?” 

Loki looked up from the rations he was poking at listlessly and pushed them in Val’s direction with a gesture. “Have at.” 

She didn’t immediately take them. “Really?” 

“Mmhm. I am not hungry.” He could feel her staring at the back of his head and turned slightly to look at her. “What?” 

“Not that I’m worried,” she said, “but you don’t have a lot of weight to lose, and current rations are barely enough to sustain any of us without skipping meals.”

“I seem to be managing.”

She plopped down next to him. “Something’s off about you.” 

Loki barked a laugh. “Something always is.” 

“More than usual.” She scrutinized him, and Loki looked placidly back at her. “You’re not planning something, are you?” 

Loki felt a brief spark of annoyance. “I assure you I am not.”

“Huh.” She looked him up and down. “Eat your rations,” she said flatly. “I don’t care if you’re hungry or not.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re not worried?” 

She scowled at him. “Having one of their princes collapse will be bad for morale.” 

“I assure you,” Loki said, “I am not on the verge of collapse.” She eyed him. 

“Right,” she said. “Glad to hear it.” And didn’t get up. The two of them stared at each other in a silent battle of wills. 

Val gave up first, standing with a sound of disgust. “Fine,” she said savagely. “Starve if you want. It’s none of my business. Make sure those don’t go to waste.” 

“Thank you ever so much for your concern,” Loki called after her. She made an obscene gesture over her shoulder. 

He waited until he was sure she was gone to look back at the food. He really _wasn’t_ hungry. And that was fine. More for those who really needed it. 

And if he had a nagging suspicion that perhaps he _should_ be...well. _Should_ had never meant all that much to Loki. 

* * *

At first, on Asgard after he had taken Odin’s place, Loki had slept poorly as ever. He looked over his shoulder constantly, restless, nervous, expecting at any moment for someone to burst forth and cry foul against him. More than that, his near-death lingered, haunting him; and Frigga’s ghost seemed to hang in every hall, accusing. He half expected Thanos to come bursting out of nowhere to snatch him away, or Thor to explode into the hall to crush his skull. 

But as the months went by and nothing happened...he began to ease out of that state of constant vigilance. To relax, and to forget. He no longer held himself so tightly, no longer paced the bounds of his rooms at night, no longer found himself anxiously watching the skies. 

He gained back the weight he’d lost. Started sleeping again. The nightmares lingered, but they began to fade, or at least held on less tightly. 

For the first time in what felt like an age, Loki had begun to feel at peace.

And then Thor had returned, and everything collapsed inward on itself. He’d slept little and lightly on Sakaar, and sleep on the ship was restless and uneven. And troubled. 

The nightmares were coming back. 

He dreamed he was drifting in the Void again. Or falling - it was hard to tell. When everything was nothing, there was nothing to judge by. Endless, mind-numbing, cold as death. His magic kept him alive, clawing him back from the brink every time he inched toward it. Holding him away from the relief he’d sought to begin with. His mind would not release him though he could feel himself unspooling, unraveling like a poorly finished piece of weaving. 

But he did not die.

And yet, for all this awful nothing, he knew in his gut that there was something still worse at the bottom.

He jerked out of sleep panting and took several moments to register the bed underneath him and the hum of the ship. His pulse was pounding and he was drenched in cold sweat.

Loki groaned and put a hand over his eyes. It was the third time in three nights he’d woken from nightmares. He was beginning to dread sleeping. He threw back the blankets and got to his feet, starting toward the door and then stopping. 

His fingers flexed. There was something he hadn’t actually tried. Had _never_ tried. 

He called the cube into his hands and set it down, its soft blue glow already reassuring. He could feel its power thrumming against his senses, like he was already touching it, already feeling it roll through him, bleed past his wards-

No, Loki realized, blinking. It already had. He could feel the blue tendrils whispering through his mind and body. He hadn’t meant to call them, but they’d come as if sensing his need and answering. For a moment, an uncertain shiver ran down his spine. 

But the unease vanished in a wave of overwhelming power crashing over him, sweeping his thoughts away. An undertow pulled at him, threatening to truly overwhelm him, but Loki braced himself and rode it out, ecstasy pulsing in his stomach. 

He pulled his hands away, breathing hard and startled by how strong it had been that time. His palms tingled, his bones himself seeming to hum in echo of the magic he could still feel. The vibrations settled slowly and he slumped back, wrung dry like it had pulled from him instead of the other way around. 

His eyes drifted closed, and this time he slept through until morning.

* * *

Thor was staring at him, eye narrowed. Loki had managed to ignore him thus far, but it was beginning to make his teeth itch. Still, he wasn’t going to break the silence and risk starting another argument. He was rapidly developing a headache pulsing behind his eyes. He knew the feeling: it was a clear warning of the probability he’d end up flat on his back in a dark room before the day was over. 

At least Thor waited until the meeting with the improvised council to end before saying anything. 

“Are you well?” He asked.

“I feel I ought to be insulted by the insinuation that I look anything else.” Thor did not seem amused, and Loki rolled his eyes. “I am fine.” 

“You’re squinting,” Thor said. “Is it a headache?” 

“Yes,” Loki said. “The one you are giving me.” 

Dogged as ever, Thor persisted. “You look pale. And thin. Thinner.” 

Did he? Loki hadn’t really thought about it. “Ship’s rations aren’t exactly the most nutritious of sustenance.” 

Thor huffed, plainly exasperated. “Loki…”

“What,” Loki said, almost snapped. “Do you want me to be unwell?”

“No,” Thor said, his voice rising as well. “Why would I want that?” 

“I don’t know,” Loki said, aware that he was baiting Thor into an unnecessary argument but unable to quite figure out how to stop. Old habits. “I suppose it would give you one less threat to worry about.” 

That seemed to bring Thor up short. His lips pressed together and his nostrils flared, plainly angry, but he - actually controlled it. “I do not think you are a _threat,_ Loki,” he said. “Have I not shown that enough? I’ve welcomed you into my councils. But you still doubt me.” 

Loki felt suddenly weary. He glanced away. “I am very good at doubting.” 

Thor sighed a moment after and stood up. “Yes,” he said, “you are. But I would you tried harder to make it otherwise.” Loki’s gut twisted uncomfortably, a mixture of bitterness and the old misery that came with Thor’s disappointment. Thor came over, though, and put his hand on the back of Loki’s neck. “I know it’s your way to keep your injuries to yourself, but Asgard cannot afford your hiding away to heal. I need you at your best.” 

That should not have warmed him the way that it did. He smiled, a little. “You worry too much. It’s only a headache.”

Thor let go and gave him a little push. “Then go rest. There are no further pressing things to take care of today.” 

“Sending me off to bed like a child, brother?” Loki said dryly. 

“If you don’t, I’ll get Val to drag you there,” Thor said, sounding annoyingly pleased with the idea. Loki wrinkled his nose and thought about saying that he was fairly sure Thor couldn’t _make_ Valkyrie do anything, but he would probably only take that as a challenge.

So he left, retreating to his room and stretching out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with the pain in his skull only growing. His stomach knotted. 

It was just a headache, Loki told himself. There was nothing truly _wrong_ with him. He’d always been prone to this kind of thing, the more so when he was under stress, and there was certainly a lot of stress to go around at the moment. 

The thought of the Tesseract flickered across his mind. He pushed it away. That kind of power coursing through his body was the last thing he needed right now. 

Still, the want nagged at him. A vague nudge at the back of his mind, and he couldn’t quite shake it loose.

* * *

Loki had always been prone to bouts of what his mother had called ‘melancholy.’ He never knew how long they would last, or what brought them on, but he’d learned to endure through them, for the most part. 

With the possible exception of a period of a recent three years or so. 

The first time it hit after Asgard’s fall took him by surprise. If at first he’d been occupied by the chaos of everything that had happened, and the everyday business of the ship itself, and the general falling out of it all - that began to ebb away and very suddenly Loki found himself crashing. 

Exhaustion trailed him like a stalking beast. His body felt heavy, like his limbs were weighted, his emotions raw and too close to the surface. He withdrew, deliberately, aware that in this mood he could be...dangerous. 

He didn’t want to be dangerous. Or couldn’t afford to be. 

Besides, in the safety of his rooms there was solace to be found. 

He recognized that he’d come to rely on it. That it pulled on him in ways that should be troubling. But it was hard to feel any need to fight back when the simple truth was that it _helped -_ and if the brief, scouring ecstasy only lasted a few moments before he was left empty once again, at least it wiped away everything else.

The nothing was cold but it was better than the feeling that something inside was going to devour him. It staved off the ever-present exhaustion and left him feeling cleansed. It never lasted forever, but it didn’t need to. Just long enough.

He was sitting picking listlessly at his rations when Thor plunked himself down next to Loki, apparently ignoring the way everyone turned to give him odd, startled looks. They were still unaccustomed to their new King, so different from the old. “You’ve been often absent of late,” he said, then glanced at Loki’s little touched food and frowned. “You aren’t eating.”

Loki shrugged one shoulder. “I can’t say I feel particularly hungry. Pass it on to one of the children. You don’t want their growth stunted.” 

Thor’s eye narrowed. “You only go off your food when something’s wrong.” 

“Leave off,” Loki said flatly. “I am not plotting anything, I assure you.” 

Thor’s expression turned mulish. “I didn’t say you were.”

“You didn’t need to.” 

They stared at each other, and Thor huffed, plainly annoyed. “Do you not think that perhaps _this_ is why our troubles began? Because you will not tell me anything?” 

_You wouldn’t have listened,_ Loki wanted to snap back, but he held his tongue until the urge passed, and then he just felt tired again and wanted to bang his head against the table. Maybe until he broke skin. Or his skull. 

He blinked, a little surprised and not a little alarmed. He hadn’t gone _that_ direction in three years. It made his insides squirm that it should be coming back.

“Thor,” he said, a little strained. “There is nothing you _can_ do. It’s just...a passing mood. And it _will_ pass.”

Thor still looked suspicious, but he relaxed a little. “If you are certain.” 

“I am certain.” 

“Good,” Thor said after another pause. “Good.” He glanced at the food, and pushed it toward Loki. “But you should eat. You’re starting to look positively scrawny.” 

“Thank you,” Loki said dryly. “But I think I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.” The expression on Thor’s face, eyebrows slightly raised, suggested he doubted that. “ _Honestly,_ Thor,” Loki said, exasperated again. “I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?”

The look on Thor’s face reminded Loki that arguably that was more in spite of himself than because of it. He stood up abruptly. “If you’re going to hover,” he said, keeping his voice low and masking their voices, “at least do it because you think I’m _up to something_ and not because you think I need a nursemaid.”

He stalked off before Thor could respond. He went directly to his rooms and paced back and forth, one eye on the set of knives sitting out on his desk. 

_No,_ he thought savagely, and picked up the Tesseract instead. 

When it was over, he felt - clearer. More centered. Dizzy, but that was fine; it would pass. 

More worrying was the fact that it took him several seconds to pry his fingers loose. They weren’t stuck, exactly - it was more that they didn’t seem to want to let go. 

* * *

It was a strange feeling. 

He’d more or less stopped sleeping a couple of nights ago - the dreams were too unpleasant, and the Tesseract was no longer chasing them away. Which was fine - he didn’t really need it. Sleeping had always struck him as rather pointless anyway. A waste of time. 

He could do without. 

In truth, nothing much sounded very interesting. The Tesseract consumed his attention; he felt like a planet orbiting around a sun, kept circling and trapped in the gravity of its power. He was riding a dangerous edge and he knew it. 

He kept up a facade with Thor. He could feel his brother watching him closely and it was astonishingly easy to maintain a state of pleasant ease - when nothing really mattered, what was the point in snapping and snarling like some kind of animal? 

Valkyrie was more direct. 

“You look fucked up,” she said. Loki raised his eyebrows. 

“Delicate as usual,” he said lazily. She eyed him. 

“I’m not joking. You do look fucked up.” 

“You are the last person I would expect to hear fussing over me,” Loki said. “Though I’m charmed.” 

“You don’t even _sound_ like yourself,” she said. “You’ve gone weird and I don’t like it.” 

“I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you,” Loki said without sincerity. 

“I’m going to punch you,” Valkyrie said. “I really am.” 

“Are you?” Loki said. 

She did. Hard. It didn’t break his nose, but it did _hurt,_ alarmingly so, and he blinked, the strange distance he’d been feeling all day shrinking abruptly. “You _punched_ me,” he said. 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” She looked tense, wary. “What’s the matter with you, huh? It’s making me nervous.” 

It occurred to Loki that that was a good question. He turned it over in his mind, and felt his thoughts turning back to his room, the Tesseract hidden there, safe, his. He should go back. Whatever was troubling him…

 _What are you doing?_ He thought abruptly. 

“I need to go,” he said abruptly, and spun on his heel. The moment he was back in his rooms he called the Tesseract out of hiding and set it down, then pulled away and sat down on the bed, staring at it. 

_When did this thing become the solution to every problem you encounter? When did you lose control?_

Loki drummed his fingers on his leg. He hadn’t. He _hadn’t_ lost control, he’d made a choice. It _helped,_ and as Thor had said, Asgard needed strength. Not the kind of weakness that lurked in Loki’s heart. This thing...it could be their salvation, and he was the only one who could use it. 

_(It could be their ruin.)_

Loki’s breathing had begun to come quickly and he stood, taking a step toward the Tesseract. He made himself take a step back. 

_One day,_ he told himself. _One day without using the Tesseract as a crutch. You say you have control? Prove it._

He took three deep breaths and ran his hand through his hair, only to find that it was shaking. Not exactly an auspicious start. 

_It works because I let it,_ Loki told himself. _I am not a leaf being swept down the rapids._

There were wounded who needed tending. Repairs on the ship itself. Plenty of things to do that would keep him out of this room and away from temptation, but he didn’t walk away. Instead, Loki sat down on the bed, only a few feet away, and crossed his legs. 

He didn’t want this to be easy. 

* * *

He managed to last a day. Just over a day. He left his room only to make brief appearances in a few places, so as not to arouse suspicion. He saw Valkyrie across a room and quickly ducked out so she didn’t try to talk to him. Or try to punch him again. 

A little less than a half a day and he started to feel it. A pull under his sternum. A dull ache that started behind his eyes and slowly spread. A fogginess at the edges of his vision. Worst of all, the yearning. The knowledge that something beautiful was right _there_ for the taking, and why was he holding back, why wouldn’t he let it happen? Its song sounded full of promises and reassurances and he wasn’t sure if it was real or a trick of his mind. 

“Why fight it?” Frigga said, around the twentieth hour. (He counted.) “Is it so wrong to want something good, for yourself? Why make yourself suffer?” 

Loki dug his fingers into his thighs. _No,_ he thought savagely. “That isn’t it,” he said aloud. “I need to prove…”

“Why do you always think you have to prove something?” She asked gently. He could almost feel her where she sat next to him. “Who are you trying to prove it to? Why can’t you let yourself have what you want, without questioning it?” 

“What I want has not, historically, been very good for me,” Loki said.

“And this is?” She asked. Loki took a deep breath, and then another. It felt ragged. His head was killing him. “It’s all right,” Frigga said soothingly. “You don’t need to fight this. There’s no reason to. Why is it such a bad thing? To have such power at your fingertips...no one would be able to say no.”

He held out for a while longer. But not very much. When he finally gave in, it _burned._ It hurt, and after he was bent over gasping for breath, but underneath he felt...better. Soothed. Frigga was gone, but that was probably for the best. Hallucinations didn’t tend to be a good sign.

 _It’ll be fine,_ he told himself, with a dangerous sort of desperation. _I can manage this. It’ll be_ fine.

* * *

Loki was beginning to think he was going mad. 

He was exhausted all the time. When he slept it was only for an hour or so before he woke again, nightmares tearing at him viciously until he was curled into himself and struggling not to scream. The Tesseract could chase them away, but only for three hours, then two. He was feeling himself slip and couldn’t figure out what to grab onto to catch himself. 

Other than the Tesseract. His only comfort, his only reassurance. His solace. His. He left it out, now, sitting on the edge of his desk, and listened to it sing instead of sleeping. 

Vaguely, he knew that something was wrong. That he ought to go to Thor and tell him - tell him the Tesseract was here, that he’d taken it, that something was happening to him, but every time he thought about it he pictured the look on Thor’s face, the bitter disappointment - or worse, the lack of it, because he’d expected something like this. 

He took to avoiding Thor. He suspected Thor knew it, but Loki was very good at avoiding people when he wanted to be, and Thor was rather easy to avoid.

He retreated more and more often into the safety of his room and the solace of that wash of cold, indifferent power that swept away everything: all feeling, all disquiet, all anxiety about the future. Leaving him clean. Intoxicating power in his hands, and he had mastered it - or it had mastered him, or both, and it didn’t really matter which. 

How could he ever give that up?

* * *

Loki woke jarringly from dark dreams of battling Thor in Sakaar’s arena while Thanos loomed above, laughing. Disoriented and still exhausted, he rolled over and caught a glimpse of the clock he used to keep time. 

It seemed to take a long moment for his vision to clarify. His head felt _awful_ , like someone had reached in and squeezed his brain in their fist. For a dizzy moment he thought he _was_ back on Sakaar and had passed out drunk, which was a troubling thought. He wasn’t certain that certain...people would be above taking advantage. 

A moment later he remembered everything. Asgard. Surtur. The ship. How long had he slept? He hadn’t meant to. 

He squinted at the clock again, the numbers finally coming into focus. 

Oh, _shit._ He was supposed to have been in the engine room an hour ago to talk with the engineers about possible magical repairs. Loki groaned and dragged a hand over his face, but he got up. 

The ship rocked violently, and Loki froze. Had something just hit them? He took a step toward the door and no, it wasn’t the ship, it was his head, his head was spinning and the floor was coming up _very fast._

He reached for something to catch himself, but it was too late; he’d already fallen through the deck and was tumbling head over heels into the Void. 

* * *

“-ki! _Loki!_ ”

Someone rudely pried open one of his eyes. He tried to jerk away but his body wasn’t working very well, and somehow the impulse never made it from his brain to his muscles. 

“Well,” said a vaguely familiar voice. “He’s alive, anyway.” 

“ _Val,_ ” Thor’s voice said. “Something’s wrong with him, he’s been off for weeks. Loki, what have you gotten yourself-” He cut off and inhaled sharply. “Oh, you have got to be _kidding_ me!”

“I’m guessing the glowing cube is something important,” Valkyrie said. _Oh, lovely,_ Loki thought weakly. He felt too tired - too _weak -_ to be properly afraid, but objectively he knew he should be. Thor knowing about the Tesseract was precisely what he’d wanted to avoid. Or...he should have told him about it. He’d meant to. 

But then Thor would have taken it away. 

“Loki,” Thor growled, his voice a great deal closer. “What have you done?” 

“It’s mine,” Loki said. “I got it out.”

“It is _not_ yours,” Thor said, his voice positively vibrating. “Were you _ever_ going to tell me about this? Were you planning on just taking it and leaving, again-” 

Loki blinked a little dazedly. _I wasn’t,_ he wanted to say. _Thor, I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to leave, I’m here-_

His tongue wouldn’t work, though. 

“ _Well?_ ”

“I don’t think you’re going to get much of an answer right now,” Valkyrie said. “Not that I’m _concerned,_ but he doesn’t exactly look good.”

Thor swore under his breath. Loki decided this wasn’t terribly important to pay attention to, because if Thor was going to throw him out of an airlock he didn’t want to know. 

“I think he’s passing out again,” Valkyrie said. 

“Loki, stay awake,” Thor said, and he sounded worried. So that was nice. 

* * *

It was gone. 

Loki knew that before he was even awake - before he understood what had happened. He couldn’t hear its song, couldn’t hear _anything -_ the world was wrapped in a gauzy, muffling veil that somehow also cut into his skin. 

“Loki! _Loki!_ Stop screaming-”

Someone grabbed his arm and he snarled, twisting, _stop let me go why would you do this to me why would you-_

His magic snapped out of him like a whip and whoever was holding him let go with a shout of surprised pain. Loki clawed his way up and someone’s ax came down and split his brain in two. 

Or at least it felt like that. He crumpled, dazed, confused, disoriented. His mind was full of writhing snakes, biting each other, themselves, him. He lay there under the onslaught, shattering. 

“What is this,” and Loki recognized Thor’s voice, now, brassy with tension. 

“ _I_ don’t know. Why would I know? Go get a healer.” 

“And tell them what? That my brother has lost his mind?” 

“Yes?” 

“I haven’t-” Loki was almost surprised that the right words came out of his mouth. Or he was pretty sure they’d come out of his mouth. He’d meant to say them, and someone had. “I’m not-”

“Loki?” Thor touched his face, his neck, and Loki struggled to focus on him. “What is wrong with you?” 

“You took it away,” Loki said. Thor’s expression darkened. 

“The Tesseract? Of course I did. Answer the question-”

“Huh,” Valkyrie said. He was pretty sure it was her. “I think he actually did.” 

“You think the _Tesseract_ caused this?”

Valkyrie shrugged. “If that looks like anything I’ve seen,” and Loki could only presume she’d gestured at him, “it looks like the kind of thing that happens when a drunk goes dry. Maybe the same thing happens with magic, what do I know?” 

Silence. Loki could hear hissing, somewhere, like something breathing nearby. Inhale, exhale. He held his, trying to pinpoint its location. 

“Loki,” Thor said. “Is that what happened? Are you…”

“There’s something here,” Loki said. But no, no, it wasn’t here, it was _in_ him and he could feel it slither into his nasal cavity, down toward his throat. He choked, frantic, flinging out a hand for Thor but he wasn’t there, was never going to be there, he was dying but he was never going to die-

Someone was holding his arms, pinning him down and shouting, but none of the words made sense. 

* * *

Thor was trying to kill him. He kept trying to hide but Thor was destroying every refuge as fast as he found them and Loki only realized slowly that he was being toyed with but he couldn’t stop running. But he couldn’t run - his legs were broken and Thor put Mjolnir on his chest, slowly compressing his ribs, but Mjolnir was shattered and instead of the hammer it was just his foot bearing down. 

“Please, brother, please,” Loki begged. “Stop - stop hurting me, stop-”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Thor growled. “I’m going to kill you.” 

Thor melted into fire and a faceless figure was dragging Loki toward it, and hard as he fought he couldn’t break their grip. He could feel himself melting, and when he looked back he could see it: a residue, like snail slime, that Loki knew was his. The ground was crumbling underneath him, though, and he was falling into black, the only light that flame rapidly dwindling above him. 

“Just drink the fucking water,” said the Valkyrie, holding him down and forcing a sour-smelling cup to his lips. “Come the fuck on, get it together - dammit, Thor, why can’t you find someone else to do this-”

“Thor,” he heard himself say. His voice sounded strange, but when he grabbed onto her wrist it felt real. “Where...where…”

“You won’t remember even if I tell you,” she said. “Go back to sleep.” 

“I can’t,” Loki said. “I can’t - sleep. Help me.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do,” she said, sounding both exhausted and annoyed. 

“I need to get out of here,” Loki said. 

“You’re not going anywhere, your highness.” Loki let go of her wrist and tried to get up. She shoved him back down and panic clawed up his throat. Hands were holding him down and he clawed for his magic only to find it out of reach, so he just - _clawed._ If they were going to try to hold him he was going to make them pay for it, they could try to tear his secrets from his bones but he was better than that. 

“Fuck - Loki, _Loki,_ so help me if you try to bite me-”

His brain was exploding. Or imploding. 

_\--if you should fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us--_

(The Other, reaching for him, Thor, reaching for him-)

\-- _there will be no Realm, no barren moon--_

(get away get away get _away_ )

“Oh, fuck this,” someone said.

Nothing. 

* * *

His head was throbbing like someone had tried to tear his brain out through his eyes. _Thanos,_ he thought. _I’m back with Thanos. Or else I never left._

“How has he been?” Was that Thor? It sounded like Thor. But Thor had never been to Sanctuary - _and never will be, he can’t ever go there, can’t ever suffer that, not him, not Thor._

“Oh, just great. Last time he came around he bit me. Hard. I might have punched him a little.”

“Val…”

“I doubt he’ll even remember it, Thor.” ‘Val’, whoever she was - another one of Thanos’s children? One he hadn’t met yet? “Wherever he is, it’s not here. And I don’t think I want to be there.” 

“No change?” 

“Not as far as I can tell.” 

“Thor,” Loki said, managing to get his tongue working. “ _Thor._ ” 

Silence, brief and stunned. “Loki?” Thor said, his voice strained. “Are you awake?” 

“Go,” he said, as urgently as he could manage. “Get out, now.” 

Another beat of silence. “You want me to leave?” He sounded _hurt._ Like he didn’t want Loki to tell him to leave. Of course he didn’t. Thor thought he could _save_ him. Thor didn’t understand-

“You have to leave,” Loki said. “Before you’re trapped. Before he sees you here. It’s not safe.” 

He heard Thor take a short breath. “Before _who_ sees you here?” 

Loki shook his head. “Just - just _leave._ It’s not safe, any minute it’ll start over again and if you’re here…” 

_You can’t be here. I can’t see you broken, not you. I can stab you and betray you and trick you but I cannot see you broken._

“See what I mean?” Val said. “At least he knows who you are. “He seems to think I’m going to kill him.” 

“No,” Loki said. “Not kill me. You won’t kill me. That’d be - that’d be too nice.” 

Thor made a slightly strangled noise. “Loki...wherever you think you are, you aren’t. You’re on a ship with me and the rest of Asgard. We brought on Ragnarok. Remember the battle against Hela?”

 _Hela._ That name stirred some sluggish memory. Surtur. Asgard consumed in flames. 

“I destroyed Asgard?” He said. His voice sounded small and tremulous. “I…”

He felt himself start crying and turned his face away. 

“Go,” Thor said to Valkyrie. “Go try...talking to the Hulk. See if you can get him to give Bruce back.” 

“Fine, fine. But I wouldn’t count on it.” 

Loki didn’t turn his face back toward Thor, but he heard Thor sigh and sit down and he opened his eyes. The walls were bleeding sluggish purple and he could hear distant screaming. 

“Yes,” Thor said. “You did destroy Asgard, but I asked you to. To save it.” 

Loki shuddered. He turned slowly back toward Thor and froze. One of his eyes was covered but for a moment his eyesight flickered and it was a bloody chasm, a hole in his face, and he could see all the way through to the back of his head. He cried out in alarm and shrank back. 

“You’re not real,” he said. “You’re dead, you’re - you _died,_ Thor, she killed you-” He remembered, now. Lying on a planet, panting for air, and the knowledge crashing down that he was the last one left alive-

“What?” Thor said. “No, Loki, I’m right here.” He reached out and his palm felt warm against the side of Loki’s face. His mouth spasmed. “Norns, you’re cold. How did I not see this happening?”

“You only have one eye,” Loki said, though he didn’t really know what Thor meant. 

“Is that a joke?” 

“Not really,” Loki said. “I’m sorry you’re stuck haunting me. You should be with Frigga. With mother. I shouldn’t have said…” He was crying again. Thor blurred, smeared. Why was it so hard to _think?_

“Something’s missing,” he said. “Something I need.”

Thor’s expression darkened. “No,” he said. “It’s really not.” 

“Why can’t I stop crying?” 

“You’re sick,” Thor said after a moment. “I need to go. But...Val will be here. She’s a friend.” 

“I don’t have friends,” Loki said.

Thor let out an explosive breath. “You might if you didn’t _bite_ them,” he said, and Loki flinched. “I’m...sorry. If you need me...I’ll come if I can.” 

“Good,” Loki said. “A ghost Thor isn’t as good as the real thing, but it’s better than nothing.” 

“Loki,” Thor said, sounding tired, but then he stopped. “Rest,” he said finally. “Try to sleep. Norns know you need it.” 

Loki turned on his side and closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the walls. He didn’t want to know what he might see in them.

* * *

He faded in and out for a while. 

Sometimes things were clearer. Sometimes he could even remember where he was, what had happened; sometimes he could even remember why. He pleaded with Thor and Val - his only visitors - to bring it back, _please, just once, let me, just once, I need it._

They never agreed. Thor shouted at him until he changed into a dragon, roaring, jaws open wide to swallow him whole, and after the fit passed, he looked at Loki like his heart was being wrenched out of his chest. 

His thoughts were a scattered jumble of incoherent memories and nightmares, all crowding for space. Frigga came and whispered in his ear that she needed him, but when he tried to get up to follow, Val held him down and he was too weak to fight back. He overheard her and Thor arguing, once, and knew it was about him, but too little of it made sense. 

“Maybe we _should,_ ” Val said. “Maybe this isn’t the kind of thing you can fix. Have you managed to get him to eat anything? Because I haven’t.” 

“No,” Thor said, his voice grating. “I won’t. Besides - it wasn’t helping before, just making things _worse._ ” 

“At least then he was still _coherent._ ”

Loki tuned out their arguing. He was fairly sure Thor’s hand was rubbing his back, which was nice, and Loki didn’t want to make him leave by talking. 

* * *

He woke feeling like a fever had just broken. His body ached and his mind felt like it had been ground to a thin paste. The pieces of what had happened wouldn’t quite come together. The world, when he opened his eyes, seemed hazy, and he was conscious of the sense that something was missing.

His eyes focused slowly on Thor, who was looking at him with his arms crossed, his expression tight. He looked - very upset. 

“I didn’t do it,” Loki said automatically. Thor shook his head. 

“Do you even know what you’re denying?” Loki blinked owlishly, and Thor walked over to look down at him. “What do you remember?” 

Loki clawed back through his most recent memories, none of which seemed to make very much sense. Finally he stumbled across something that did. 

He’d been...he’d fallen. Thor had found him, and found the Tesseract. He’d been terrifically angry about it and then he’d taken it away. 

That was where everything went...bad. 

“What were you _thinking?_ ” Thor demanded. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Bad enough that you took the Tesseract and said nothing - _nothing! -_ to me, but you also somehow - what _were_ you doing with it?” 

Loki swallowed hard. He knew what that sense was now of something _missing._ He felt raw, abraded, and the only thing that seemed as though it might help was far away and out of his hands, probably forever. 

_You complete and utter fool._

“You don’t understand,” Loki said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” 

Loki inhaled shakily. “Everything is so...bright. And sharp. The Tesseract wipes it all away. It is, it is clarity, and peace, and quiet…”

“You collapsed,” Thor said, his voice vibrating. “You _collapsed,_ Loki, because you’d nearly stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped _everything_ but - _communing_ with that thing-”

Loki swallowed. “I needed…”

“If you needed _peace and quiet_ that much why didn’t you say something to _me?_ ” 

“You couldn’t help,” Loki said. 

“You know that for certain,” Thor said bitterly. “In your great wisdom.”

Loki turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, miserable. He was so tired, and the sense of absence where the Tesseract should be throbbed like an open wound. Thor’s upset beat against him like a wave and he felt like he was going to cry.

“Loki?” Thor said, more gently. 

“I was going to tell you,” he said. “I wasn’t going to leave.” 

“How can I believe you?”

Loki knew the answer to that one. “You can’t,” he said wearily. “I know. But it’s true.” 

“I should have seen this,” Thor said, sounding like he was talking to himself more than to Loki. “I should have seen that you were ailing - I _did_ see but I clearly did not press my concerns enough. Did you know what was happening? Did you realize--”

Had he? Loki wasn’t sure. The past few weeks felt blurry and confused, none of his memories clear. He thought perhaps he had realized, and just not cared. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki said weakly. Stupid, meaningless words. _Please, bring it back,_ he wanted to say. _Let me have it. Let it scour me clean for good so I am just an echo of its song._

Thor sighed heavily. “Sorry for what? That you took it? That you went this long without telling me? That you did this to yourself - drove yourself to the point of madness and collapse?”

“I’m just sorry,” Loki said. His thoughts felt jumbled, muddled, like his brain had gone through a blender. 

Thor sighed again, a great heave of one. “Ah, Loki,” he said.

“Don’t leave me,” Loki said. His voice sounded small and pitiful. “Please, Thor, don’t leave me.” 

“I’m here,” Thor said, and something in Loki crumpled. He started weeping silently. Thor’s hand moved to his back, rubbed up and down, and it was almost enough.


End file.
